A Lonely Hearts CHRISTMAS

I'm not trying to scare you,' Milo grimaced. 'No one's ever been chased out of the cottage by a scary apparition, if that's any consolation.'
'It isn't!' snorted Sophie. She told him about the noises she'd heard, and the door she'd left shut that she then found open.
'I could delve deeper into it, if you like,' offered Milo. 'The internet doesn't give a lot to go on, but old books up at the house might yield more clues.
Some belonged to the library of the original house.' Sophie considered. 'That would be helpful, thanks. As you know, Willow Cottage doesn't have Wi-Fi. I'll check in with you tomorrow morning when I'm back at the house.
I've still got plants to water. And Cedric the cat to feed.' Milo nodded. 'I'd volunteer to take over, but I'm anticipating that call from Tony, the director, begging me to return to filming.' Sophie reserved judgement.
Milo's row with his co-star struck her as childish.
When Milo finally left, the daylight was starting to fade. Sophie moved about the cottage, switching on lights and trying to shrug off that unsettling 'vibe'.
Despite her anxiety, she slept surprisingly well and woke to another crisp winter's day.
En route to the kitchen, she glanced into the sitting room, yawning and did a double take. Surely the Christmas tree, despite listing in its pot, hadn't been quite so tipsy-looking when she'd gone to bed? Now it was leaning at a perilous angle. Some baubles had fallen off too, as if the tree had received an almighty shake.
Perturbed, she rehung the baubles, righted the tree as best she could, had a quick breakfast and hurried to Abrahart House.
Milo was already up, and had fed the demanding Cedric. They were both in the kitchen as she arrived. She told him about the tree.
Denne historien er fra December 03, 2024-utgaven av Woman's Weekly.
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Denne historien er fra December 03, 2024-utgaven av Woman's Weekly.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9500+ magasiner og aviser.
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